Many Shades of Red
by WinJennster
Summary: Valentine's Day is a Class A joke. And no one is going to convince Dean Winchester otherwise. Destiel fluff.


"Valentine's Day is a class A joke," Dean announced loudly, as he set a large platter of pancakes on the bunker's kitchen table.

Sam looked up from his newspaper and raised an eyebrow. "Says the guy that doesn't have a date with a gorgeous redhead."

"You're going out with Charlie. We all know how much action you're going to get tonight," Dean grinned.

"Oh, shut up. You could come, y'know?" Charlie groused as she snatched several pancakes off the stack.

"Yeah, a computer expo on Valentine's Day. That sounds like sooooo much fun," Dean said sarcastically.

"Hey, I got totally laid at the last one I went to," Charlie winked. "I got game, boy-o."

Sam laughed as he sipped his coffee.

"Whatever," Dean muttered, drenching his pancakes in syrup, "I'm a geek too, to some degree, but I'm not geeky enough to spend Valentine's Day at a computer expo."

"You're just hoping if you stick around here, Mr. Dreamy Angel of Thursday will show up, right?" Charlie grinned knowingly.

"What?! No! That's not…no…I mean…what the hell?" Dean spluttered.

"Jeez, Dean, are you still pretending? Seriously, that is your worst kept secret."

"Shuddup, Sam, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, c'mon, Dean…"

"No, stop it. Just go to your stupid computer thing. I have cleaning to do." He stomped out of the kitchen, ignoring Sam's hasty words of apology.

Dean hid in his room for the rest of the morning. Sam knocked on his door around two to tell him he and Charlie were leaving for Kansas City. Dean grunted an acknowledgement.

He waited until he was sure they were gone, then left his bedroom. He really did have cleaning to do. The next few hours were spent washing the dishes and mopping the kitchen floor, doing laundry, and dusting the library.

It was his intention to stay busy for the whole day and not think about certain wayward angels, but by six, he was done cleaning. That was his own fault, because he never let the bunker get slopped up to begin with, so cleaning was never that time consuming.

Boredom set in pretty quickly. He thought about baking something, but couldn't be bothered. He flipped on the TV and channel surfed for a while, but didn't find anything to hold his attention. He rooted through the storeroom, but after a close call with an artifact that could have changed him into a frog if he touched it, he decided that was a lost cause as well.

Dean paced the library floor, then the war room floor. He changed the sheets (clean ones he'd put on a day ago) on his bed.

Ok, so maybe he should have gone with Sam and Charlie. Because this was ridiculous.

He'd just settled on the couch again when there was a knock on the heavy metal door.

Dean all but ran up the stairs, so grateful for a distraction, and yanked it open.

A massive bouquet of balloons and flowers greeted him.

"What the hell?" he asked confusedly.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said, his voice muffled by the balloons. "Happy Saint Valentine's Day."

"Cas?"

"Yes, can you help me? I think I've overestimated my ability to carry so many things at once."

Dean bewilderedly took the bouquet of roses from him, and the balloons, which were attached to a concrete weight. He dropped that over the side of the metal stairs, watching as they gently drifted to the floor. There had to be about two dozen balloons on that thing.

Meanwhile, his arms were full of an asston of sweet smelling pink and red roses.

"Dude, Cas, what is all of this…" the words died in his throat as he turned back around.

Cas had ditched the black suit and blue tie he normally wore, and instead, was standing there in a red (red!) suit, like an actual fucking suit, with a pale pink shirt and a hot pink tie. The tan trench was gone, and he was wearing a shiny, metallic pink trench instead.

He smiled at Dean, holding out a big box of chocolates. "Happy Valentine's Day," he said again. "I wore as many shades of red as I could. I hope this is suitable, and that you will agree to be my Valentine."

"Uh…"

A look of concern crossed the angel's face. "I've done something wrong."

"No! No, I mean, this is, this is great, Cas, and I don't, I don't know what to say," Dean was aware that he was stumbling and stuttering and some part of him wanted to laugh hysterically, but, truth be told, his heart was melting.

Obviously, Cas had gone to a lot of trouble to do this for him. New clothes, balloons, chocolates, and flowers…the works.

"Cas, this is great. This is awesome."

A beautiful smile lit the angel's face, "so you'll be my Valentine?"

"Of course," Dean said with a smile.

"So I can kiss you now?" Cas asked, all uncertainty gone, and a sexy confidence slipping into his voice. The change left Dean breathless, as Cas pushed him against the railing, all up in his personal space.

He felt his cheeks flame the same color as Cas's suit and Dean's mouth was dry and he couldn't get the _yes _on the tip of his tongue out of his mouth. Cas must've heard him anyway, hell, maybe he prayed it, but their lips met, and Dean helplessly registered the softness of Cas's mouth on his.

"Happy Valentine's Day," Cas whispered against his lips.

"Yeah," is all he managed, before diving in for another kiss.

Maybe it's wasn't such a Class A joke after all.


End file.
